


Illusions of Grandeur

by kittengriffin (Shadaras)



Category: Neopets
Genre: Family Relationships - Freeform, Gen, Ghosts, Magic, POV First Person, background M/M relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-25
Updated: 2010-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23823067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/pseuds/kittengriffin
Summary: Giovanni goes home, because his mother thinks she's seen a ghost.(She's wrong, but there are still things that need fixing here.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and published in the Neopian Times under the username kittengriffin.

_Dearest Giovanni,_

_I find myself recalling the days you spent at home more and more often these days. Your sister asks of you often, and I have naught of you to say to her. Even your father’s ghost wishes to see you once more. Please, my son, return home, even if only for a short time. I need you._

_All my Love,  
Maria Serefini_

I read the letter twice. The first time, my heart caught up in my throat. The second, it sunk to my stomach.

I looked up. “Siobhan, is there any reason you can think of for a ghost to appear after about twenty years?”

“What?” The brown Ruki turned from his own letters – likely from gypsy friends – with a frown. “Explain.”

“Mother says Father’s ghost is asking after me.” I folded the letter carefully before replacing it in the envelope. “Seeing as I lived there for years after we buried him and he never appeared, I have my suspicions.”

“Illusions?”

I nodded.

“That’s illegal.”

“Do you want to deal with nobles or not, Siobhan?” I sighed, running a hand through my thinning dust-brown hair. “I don’t like this, and I don’t want to drag you into this. Just because, well...” I smiled a little. “Gypsy.”

“That’s just your mother.” But he bowed slightly, conceding the point, and looked at me soberly. “Be careful, Gianni. When was the last time you tried dealing with something on your own?”

“Where I tried, or where I ended up doing so?” I thought back, frowning slightly. “The Neovia incident, I think, when I bound that ghost to your sunburst.”

Siobhan stepped forward and placed a hand on my arm. “Gianni.”

“I grew up with them.” I laid my hand on his and smiled. “I’ll come back.”

He smiled back, making his normally dour face shine. “I never doubted that.”

I squeezed his hand and rose to pack clothes and books into one of the utilitarian travel cases almost all Academy mages had. Mine was patched and scraped, but it hadn’t fallen apart yet, so I saw no reason to replace it. Besides, I had a fondness for all the marks; they reminded me of the missions where I had been able to make a difference in peoples’ lives, and the patches were almost all gifts from the villages where I’d torn my bag.

A dress coat thumped onto the top of the case. I looked up at Siobhan. He shrugged, looking embarrassed. “If I remember correctly, your mother is going to try to force you to dress nicely at least once. You may as well bring your own fancy clothes.”

I laughed, taking his advice. I should have remembered that to begin with; my mother adored balls and social occasions. Even Father, who had been much more interested in such events than I, had told her that enough was enough a few times. I wasn’t planning on staying with her for more than a week, but a week was more than enough time for her to gather ‘just a few friends’ together for a party. She’d tell me to mask my twisted features for it, of course. My mood suddenly plummeted, and I left the travel case. I’d packed enough, especially as Mother was likely to force new clothes upon me and what was left at home from previous visits would still fit.

I returned to my chair and the book I had been studying before Siobhan had brought me the letter. The book was almost entirely about illusion magic and the rules regarding it, including the one that forever bothered me: no mage was allowed to use illusions that either created a new ‘person’ from nothing or had the effect of changing what they – or any other person – looked like for any purpose but saving lives, and even then only when there was no other option. I was thus barred from hiding my mutated face, twisted and scarred by a magical accident almost twenty years ago now. It had ceased truly bothering me long ago, but I still chose to avoid mirrors when I had a choice.

I set to studying the rules of illusion magic even more carefully than before, alert for any loopholes that a clever mage might exploit. I knew many of them already, but there was always something new to find, and I became so absorbed in the book that I barely noticed when Siobhan lit a lantern and placed it beside me to combat the fading light of dusk. I only stopped reading when I finished the book, and blew out the lantern in a daze. Thoughts of illusions and loopholes filled my head as I collapsed into bed, and I fell asleep almost before I laid my head on the pillow.

I woke to Siobhan’s cheerful voice reciting a Shenkuan poem about the beauty of a sunrise. I opened my eyes the barest amount, winced at the light, and closed them again. Siobhan laughed, and I resisted the urge to throw a pillow at him. He put up with my habit of late-night reading, so I had to put up with his love of mornings. I rolled out of bed, barely noticing where I stepped until I passed a mirror. I scowled at my reflection. Seeing my face, once that of a normal aristocratic green Kougra and now mutated and scarred, tended to force me awake.

Siobhan waited until I was back in the central room before talking to me. I was grateful for that, since it usually took me that long to feel like a person again. He smoothed his dusky purple vest absently, and said, “If you’re going to arrive at Brightvale at a reasonable time, you need to leave soon.”

“I’m aware.” I glanced through the contents of my travel case and added the book of illusions before closing it and picking it up. “Did you ask someone to fly me?”

The Ruki nodded as he opened the door for me. “You never would’ve done so on your own.”

“That’s what partners are for,” I said, heading down the corridors.

The students we passed looked at us curiously. Siobhan and I were partners; seeing only one of us packed was bound to raise questions. I gave Siobhan a wry smile as we exited the building; he’d get to deal with all the questions and rumors that came up, and he’d tell me the best of them when I came back. Not for the first time, I wished that Siobhan were tied to an element other than earth so that we could communicate telepathically; my primary element, air, couldn’t connect to earth, though almost any other set of elements, no matter how odd, could.

As a result, I’d be on my own in Brightvale. Neither of us liked the idea of only one of us going into a potentially dangerous situation after years of working together; the previous times I’d visited home had been for no reason other than seeing my family and friends again, and the most dangerous parts had been the threat of storms as a Uni carried me between Brightvale and the Woods. This time there was either a ghost or an illusionist, and either could easily be deadly.

Leaving the Woods, however, I didn’t mind; Siobhan was the only one here who I would even want to talk to, simply because he was the only one I could truly and easily call a friend. In Brightvale, I kept up correspondence with mages and nobles alike, and would term many of those relations friends. I sighed, turning to face Siobhan. We were at the stables, and a Uni was waiting for me. I ignored the Uni for now, the Ruki’s face. “Fare well,” I said at last. Any words of parting sounded strange, and I couldn’t easily recall the last time I’d spoken them.

He smiled. “Best of luck, Gianni.” He clasped my hand for a second longer before releasing me, turning back toward the Academy proper and walking steadily away.

I watched him go for a moment, and then turned my attention to the patient Uni. This one was a simple yellow color, and I nodded in greeting. One of his panniers held what I assumed were missives and books, and the other was empty. I placed my travel case into it, making sure everything was properly secured. I eyed the muscular Uni and decided that there wasn’t any need to apologize for the weight. I mounted, strapped myself into the saddle, and said, “Let’s go.”

I’d barely spoken the words before the Uni was in the air, his giant wings unfolding to carry us higher into the sky. I smiled. I rarely got to enjoy a ride of this sort, as Siobhan disliked flying and I didn’t mind walking. As a result of that, we had always received assignments in the Woods, and only occasionally went to another city. So now, with the wind rushing through my fur and the sky all around me, I was free to enjoy myself and just exist in my element.

I watched the clouds around us and the ground below. Sometimes I caught glimpses of the small cities that sat, hidden, in the endless plains, but those weren’t the cities I was waiting for. I longed to see Brightvale, with its white, gold, and green lances reaching towards the sky and flags rippling in the wind. When those towers finally came into sight, I could feel it in my body. I leaned forward, and the Uni sped up to cover the final distance to the Institute Arcanus, Brightvale’s magical academy and the place I had studied magic from for all my adolescent years.

There, I thanked the Uni and took my travel case from his panniers. If I wished, I could have taken one of the Ark – as the Institute Arcanus was typically called – Unis to my home, but I had walked the miles near-daily when I studied here, and I wished to walk that path once again. So I set off along the road, and an ache set in as my feet carried me down a remembered road. No matter how many times I visited, I could not get used to the changes. Gardens were planted or taken away; trees cut or treehouses built; houses painted, remodeled, destroyed; dirt paths now cobblestone roads, and new trails where there had been naught but wilderness before.

When the summer sun was high overhead and I reached my destination, however, I found that the Serefini house hadn’t changed a bit. The gardens still held bushes carefully trimmed to look like birds in flight, stalking predators, or simply graceful animals. The façade of the house was still wood painted light, pink-tinged silver. I smiled, knocking on the door. The knocker was new, I noted. Our old one had been shaped like a pair of feathered wings. This one was similar, but distinctly different: an eagle in glory, wings fully spread.

The door opened, and I recognized the elderly maid. The silver Wocky clapped a paw to her mouth. “Giovanni?”

I smiled. “Mother asked me to come, Katrina. Would you please send someone to inform her I’ve arrived? I can find my own way to my room, I think.”

Madame Katrina nodded, a smile breaking onto her kindly face. “I’m glad you’re back, Gianni. Something left this house when you took to the Woods. Perhaps you’ll bring it back.” She turned and hurried off, dress brushing the polished wood floor.

My smile faded. I wouldn’t be staying any longer than I had to, much as I would like to. Mother would never permit Siobhan to live here, and I refused to leave my dearest friend. With a sigh, I left those thoughts behind and took the curving staircase to the upper level. The house’s décor had barely changed in all the years I’d been gone, and I wasn’t sure if I was glad. When Father had lived...

I shook my head, reaching my room. Mother would have left it alone, I knew. She always had faith that I would return, one way or another. I was proving her right, even if my return involved a ghost, or the illusion of one, for that would have nothing to do with why I was here, to her. I placed my travel case at the foot of my bed and glanced around. I didn’t have many decorations in my room. Everything was plain, but serviceable, just as it was in my Academy apartment.

Hurried footsteps alerted me to Mother’s presence, and I turned, a smile on my face. Mother had ever been full of grace and beauty, and age had done nothing to change that. Her yellow fur didn’t show the silver of age, and her summer-sky blue eyes were aglow. I embraced her, pleased to feel the strength in her arms, and said, “Hello, Mother.”

“Gianni.” She pressed her face into the fur of my neck. I endured it, knowing that she had to make sure it truly was me. “I’ve been hoping— no, it would be better for you to see. Come, Gianni. I want you to see your father again.”

I followed her, bemused by the emotions in her voice. Fear, yes, but joy in equal measure. She wanted me to reassure her that it was indeed my father, that Lord Vincent Serefini had come back to her. I could understand that. I wanted to believe her, but there were too many factors, and so many more possibilities for illusion than a true ghost. So I held back my judgment, letting her lead me through the house, seeing once more the paintings, the hangings, the woodwork – all the things that made the Serefini mansion my home.

Mother took me out to the garden, to the fountain where a Weewoo statue sang bubbling notes shaped of water. My father was buried under that statue, carefully interred in our ancestral grounds. A shimmering silver-blue ghost stood in front of the fountain, every detail of my father perfect. The simple ruffed clothing, the crooked smile, the nicked ear, braided hair, and short beard – all the little details of my father were there. I sucked in my breath, closing my eyes. I heard Mother ask if I was alright, but I ignored her, taking hold of my magic to see the truth of the world.

When I opened my eyes, the world was overlaid with the colors of magic and life. Stones and plants were more intense grays and greens. Water became opalescent, as did the clouds. All the little insects shone as tiny dots, and the so-called ghost was the rainbow of illusion.


	2. Chapter 2

I studied the rainbow colors, looking for any sign that they were simply concealing the silver-blue of a different ghost. Either way, this was not my father, but I could more easily get rid of a ghost than track down an illusionist, especially one clever enough to have thought up this trick to begin with. I let go of mage-sight, turning to Mother. As I opened my mouth to speak, I heard my father’s voice.

“Giovanni? Is that truly you?”

I looked back at the illusion, irritated. “Father had the mage-sight, if not the talent for aught else. He would know me even if he were a ghost and I looked nothing like I once did. You’re very good, but you’re still nothing more than illusion.”

The illusion looked at me for a few seconds, a wounded expression on its face, and then faded away.

“Mother—”

“You just insulted your own father, telling him he can’t recognize you?” Mother shook one white-gloved finger in my face. “Gianni, I thought you better than that.”

“But—”

“Vincent has come back to us, Gianni, and you defile that?” She turned back to the house, taking straight-backed steps along the gravel pathway. “The Haunted Woods changed you more than I thought.”

I watched her go, trying not to feel my heart breaking. Mother had been reasonable, last time I talked to her. She’d allowed me to explain yet again why I wasn’t allowed to hide my scars and faded green fur. She had told me she was just glad I didn’t have the oversized ears of transmogrified Kougras. Now, she wasn’t even letting me lay out my reasons for believing as I did. I sighed, turning back to the fountain. I wasn’t going to go back inside until one of the servants came back to tell me it was safe.

At least the servants still liked me, if Madame Katrina’s reaction was anything to go by. I’d always done my best to keep on their good sides, especially once I’d begun training at the Ark, and even more so after I’d become the Serefini lord. So I could wait outside, wandering through the garden, in weather that was much kinder than that of the Woods. I traced the outline of a Nuk-shaped bush, feeling the grace and potential for movement in every line. Mother spent her money well, when she spent it.

Gentle footsteps on the gravel path behind me made me turn, and the person I saw brought a smile to my face. “You’ve grown, Cece.”

The lithe Starry Kougra smiled as she approached me. “You haven’t changed a bit, Gianni.” She embraced me and I smiled, pulling my little sister close. When she released me, she looked up with an innocently curious expression that reminded me of the child she had once been. “Why are you visiting this time?”

I sighed, stepping back from her and shoving my hands into my pockets. “Has Mother told you about her ghost?”

Cecilia looked aghast at my blithe mention of the illusion. “Madame tells me that I mustn’t speak of it.”

“Madame is quite right. You mustn’t speak of it to anyone who doesn’t already know.” I grinned. “But since Mother has shown me the ghost and I’ve upset her by saying that it’s just an illusion, you may as well acknowledge it exists.”

“Gianni...”

“Cecilia, please.” I clasped one of her slender hands between mine. “I want to know who else she’s talked to about the ghost, that’s all.”

“Ask Madame,” Cecilia said, not meeting my eyes. “She knows more than I.”

I bowed over Cecilia’s hand, kissing her fingers as I released her. “Thank you, my lady.”

She laughed. “You’re family, Gianni. You need not call me a lady.”

“But you are one,” I said, smiling sadly. “You’re more of a lady than I have ever been a lord.”

Cecilia didn’t reply. I bowed again, retreating down the pathways. I took a round-about loop back towards the mansion, trying not to think too much upon the illusion. Mother would never believe me. Katrina, however, was quite likely to. She had always been sensible, and I’d told her a fair amount about magic both before I’d left for the Woods and during my visits after. The thought of having someone who wouldn’t cower from me when I told them that the ghost was nothing but an illusion was a nice one. Whether or not it was true I didn’t know, but I could hope.

When my wandering path finally brought me back to the side entrance, I was surprised to find another person there, a nobleman I didn’t recognize. The electric Acara glanced at me, turned away, and then looked back, brilliantly green eyes open wide. “Lord Serefini?”

I sighed, bowing. “Giovanni, please. Lord Serefini was my father, and the estate and rank will pass to Lady Cecilia in time.” I studied him, interested by the garments, based upon hunter’s leathers, he wore. “May I have the honor of your name?”

“Lord Isaiah Peregrine.” The Acara swept off his gaudily feathered hat, placing it upon his chest as he bowed. “I have the honor of being a close friend of your mother’s.”

I held back a number of comments that no proper noble would be able to take without insult. Perhaps Mother was right about the Woods corrupting me. “Lord Peregrine,” I said carefully, “I mean no disrespect, but I only returned an hour past. Perhaps I will see you again, and we shall come to know one another.”

“If you are simply Giovanni, then I must return the favor.” He smiled, replacing the hat on his slightly silvered hair. “Call me Isaiah. I wish you a good day, and I believe I will see you again quite soon.” He bowed slightly, stepping aside to let me through to the door.

I returned the bow, doing my best to ignore the glint in Isaiah’s lightning-framed eyes. I passed by him uneasily, wary of his steady gaze. As I entered the mansion, I thought I heard him laugh, but upon turning to look at him, I simply saw a nobleman walking down the garden path, looking as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

It bothered me far more than I wanted to admit. Doing my best to ignore the unease he had spread over me, I reentered the mansion and glanced around to see if any of the servants were obviously about. Much to my disappointment, they weren’t. Without much enthusiasm, I began walking down one of the long halls, hoping my memories of the mansion hadn’t faded too much. I had often joined Katrina in the room my mother had allotted her, helping the maid organize all the other servants she led.

My feet remembered the path better than my mind, I discovered. I found Katrina’s room without very much trouble, and knocked on the door, feeling like a child once more. When the door opened and Katrina saw me, the old silver Wocky smiled. “Come in, child.” She stepped back, clearing the way for me.

I bowed to her and entered. Her office was just as neat as ever, and I relaxed, sitting in one of the chairs. “Mother showed me her ghost.”

Katrina shut the door and sat in the other, smoothing her pale blue dress. She bowed her head, allowing her moonlight-silver hair to slip over her shoulders. “It’s not him.” She took a deep breath, meeting my eyes. “Your mother is besotted with this ghost of Lord Serefini, but it isn’t him.”

“Katrina...” I slowly let out a breath. “I could see the magic. How did you know?”

“I heard them talking.” Katrina twisted a handkerchief in shaking hands. “The lady was talking to him about the state of the Serefini holdings, and she mentioned how she’d let some of the younger, more shaken, maids go after your transformation.” She blinked back tears. “He didn’t recognize their names.”

I closed my eyes. Father had known everyone in his household. He may have been strict, but he had been fair and cordial to everyone. “Mother didn’t notice?”

“No.” The note of quiet sorrow in Katrina’s voice was almost too much. I took another deep breath, willing back tears. “Gianni, I’m sorry.”

I opened my eyes, fixing them on the Wocky’s silver face. “I’m going to find that illusionist. He’s breaking all the rules, and he’s going to break my family. One is bad enough. Both?” I smiled. “Both means he’s doomed.”

Katrina enfolded me in a hug, as warm and comforting as ever. A moment later, remembering propriety, she straightened and her voice turned brisk and businesslike. “Your lady mother has requested your presence in her room, young master.”

I sighed. It was as likely as not that Mother would wish to berate me for denying that Father was indeed back. Despite all my knowledge of magic and my life spent handling ghosts, I’d lost most of my skill at relating to non-mages soon after entering the Academy, and Siobhan had handled most communication in our ghost-hunts. I wished he was with me, as much so that I would have someone to trust as anything else. I pushed myself out of my chair. “I shall attend to her, then,” I said, smoothing out the roughness in my voice.

With a slight smile, Katrina opened her door and curtsied, allowing me out. I shook my head, but returned her smile. “Thank you,” I said, beginning to walk down the corridor.

“For what?”

“Acknowledging the truth.”

Katrina didn’t reply, and I walked through the mansion to Mother’s rooms. I paid little attention to the tapestries and paintings Mother took such pride in; I had seen them all before, and only those with Father still held any interest to me. Today, however, I did not linger at those paintings, looking at the resemblances we still shared. I moved even more quickly past those that showed me as I had been before the accident that resulted in my mutated appearance.

Upstairs, Mother’s rooms were simple enough to find. She waited for me in her sunroom, sitting behind a low desk. She gestured for me to sit in on one of the soft chairs. I chose one that felt much like a backrest rising from the floor and sat cross-legged, waiting for her to speak.

Mother continued writing. I let the silence continue, with only the scratch of her quill to break it. In a way, it was soothing. I’d heard the sound many times, and fallen asleep to it more than once. I sank into a trance, paying little attention to the world around me. Only when the quill fell silent did I return to the world. I opened my eyes again, looking at Mother. She smiled, but her face seemed brittle. “Gianni.”

“Mother.” I inclined my head. “I was informed that you had requested my presence.”

She nodded. “Do you yet have plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m going to the Ark.”

“You are not going to the Institute.”

I grimaced. “Mother, you can’t stop me.”

“Correction: You are not going to the Institute tomorrow.” Mother pursed her lips. “Don’t look like that, Gianni. I have a reason.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Lady Merle, a friend of mine, is throwing a ball tomorrow. She has invited the Serefini family, and I am taking you and Cecilia.” Mother placed her gloved hands on the desk, looking me in the eyes. “I expect you to attend, and to look presentable.”

“Merle is a Brightvalian name, isn’t it?” I smiled, crossing my arms. “And define ‘presentable’, in this context.”

She nodded slightly. “Clothes that will not shame the Serefini name.”

I relaxed, my smile broadening. “When does the Merle’s ball begin?”

“Seven o’clock.” Mother eyed me, her blue eyes narrowing. “Why do you ask?”

“I will come to this ball of yours, but I will still spend tomorrow at the Ark.” I shrugged. “You cannot stop me, and I never have minded the walk there and back.”

“You bring shame to our name.” Mother rose, her deep green dress rustling. As slight as she was, Mother’s gaze was still imposing. “Walking in the dust like a peasant? Ask Johannes to take you.”

“Mother...” I closed my eyes, leaning aback in the chair. “You never made me ride when I was a student.”

“You are the lord of the Serefini household now, much as you dislike and ignore the title.” Mother placed a hand on my shoulder. “I expect you to act like it.”

I nodded, resigned.

“I will inform Johannes.” Mother left quietly, and the sound of the door closing was the only overt sign that she had indeed gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Late that night, I paced through the darkened mansion like the monster provincial villages tended to name me. I didn’t know what the newer servants thought of me, but I doubted any but those who knew me as a child felt comfortable with me now. I wished it were otherwise, but I could see no way to change that. As I walked through the portrait gallery, I thought of visiting Katrina.

I knew she would not mind, but still I hesitated; I did not wish to disturb her rest. I had almost decided to simply return to my room and rest for a time when I saw the flickering light of a candle ahead. Curiosity piqued, I moved towards it, eyes and ears straining for any clue as to who bore the candle. When the bearer rounded the corner to the portrait hall, I stopped in shock, as did she. “Cecilia?” I said, careful to keep my voice soft. “Why are—” I cut off my words as I realized she was wearing naught but a night-shift.

The Starry Kougra blushed, ducking her head. “I— I didn’t expect anyone else to be awake at this hour.”

“And rightly so,” I said, taking off my coat as I strode towards her. “But your dignity should not be dependent upon the presence of others.” I took the candle from her with one hand and gave her my coat with the other. “Please, cover yourself more fully and allow me to escort you back to your room.”

Cecilia looked up at me, worry in her beautiful green eyes, but she did ask I asked. “Will you tell Mother?” She looked like a little girl again; my coat was oversized on her.

I didn’t answer, but kept my gaze steadily upon her face. To answer either way would be to betray the trust both placed in me, and, while Mother was already irritated at me, I did not wish to displease her further; she was family, my mother, and I could not easily go against that bond. Nor could I betray the little sister I had helped raise. Cecilia looked away again and her eyes and tail dropped to the floor as she clutched my coat tighter around her body.

If I had not been holding the candle, I would have crossed my arms. She was acting much like a student caught sneaking from the dorms at night, and I had no wish to involve myself in this any more than I already had. As such, I chose to do nothing more than place my free hand on her back and guide her through the portrait hall to the main stairs. I did my best to avoid looking at the paintings; seeing either my once-handsome face or that of my father, who I used to resemble, made the pain of my mutation come back as fresh as the day it had happened.

Cecilia had no such restraint. She stopped in front of one of the pictures of Mother, Father, and my near-adult self, forcing me to stop as well. “She used to be so happy,” Cecilia murmured. “She was never happy after you left. Not until Lord Peregrine—” I heard warmth in her voice and held back a shiver “—came calling.”

“Was that before the so-called ghost appeared?” My voice was rougher than usual; though I refused to look at the painting, I knew it well. Mother had commissioned it shortly before the accident that took Father’s life. It showed Mother, dressed in pale blue, sitting in a chair draped with deep rose velvet. Father stood to her left, navy blue fur blending with the black suit he wore. I sat on the floor, hands clasped around one knee. Father had objected to my pose, but he had not been able to suggest a better alternative. My fur had been a rich yellow-green, like the first leaves of spring, with navy stripes, and I had worn dusk-colored clothes.

“Yes,” Cecilia said. I felt, more than saw, her look at me. “Giovanni, are you alright?”

I shook my head and continued walking, my hand on her back bringing her with me. “You never knew me before that accident,” I said, trying to keep sorrowed anger from my voice. “Please, try to avoid reminding me.” I took a deep, albeit shaky, breath. “Thank you for telling me about Peregrine and the ghost,” I said in a more normal, if formal, tone.

She stayed silent as we walked up the stairs, deep carpet muffling any sound our feet might have made. When we reached her room, she curtsied slightly and withdrew, slipping off my coat and letting me catch it as it fell to the floor. “Goodnight, Giovanni,” she said as she closed the door. “Sleep well.”

I bowed to her closed door. Glancing at the candle, I waved a hand to blow it out. Living in the Haunted Woods for so long had left me able to see in darkness much better than most, and I preferred the shadows and hidden places; it suited my nature better than the well-lit ballrooms of Mother’s circle. Restless, with memories now keeping me from sleep, I turned and made my way back down the gently curving stairs and across the hall to the garden exit. As I walked, I donned my coat once more, buttoning it securely.

I exited into the night, not noticing any chill in the air; the Woods were typically much cooler than any night in the kingdoms. The moon was half-full, and there were few clouds in the sky. I looked up at the stars and moon that lit the night in a soft silver light that made everything seem more beautiful.

My feet carried me towards the Weewoo statue where Father had been buried and the illusion had appeared. I could hear the soft splashing of water as it fell from the statue’s beak into the basic, and used the sound as my guide. As I rounded the final hedges, I froze. Lord Isaiah Peregrine stood by the statue, the ridiculous feather in his hat waving in the dying wind. I withdrew slowly and silently, hoping that he hadn’t seen me.

Why was he here? I had suspected, from what servants had told me, that Mother had given Peregrine free access to our mansion’s grounds. I hadn’t thought the permission would extend to night, when most sensible people were asleep. I sighed quietly, then straightened and strode into the fountain’s clearing, intentionally making my footsteps audible. Peregrine jumped, obviously startled, and turned to face me. His face froze for an instant, and then he said, “Giovanni! What a pleasant surprise.”

“I can hardly say the same,” I said, working to keep my voice level. “I had not known that you were allowed access to our grounds at night.”

The Acara waved one lightning-striped hand. “Lady Maria must have forgotten to mention it.” He turned his back to me, idly dipping his fingers into the fountain’s water. “What brings you here at this hour, Giovanni?”

“I believe I have more right to ask that question than you.” I stepped forward to join him, leaning on the stone and watching his face. “What brings you here at this hour, Isaiah? Do you not have your own gardens to wander?”

“Ah, but I asked first.” Peregrine looked at me, and his eyes widened. I wasn’t even trying to be intimidating; my mutated visage usually did that well enough on its own. “I... had business nearby and thought to stop by on my way home.”

I smiled pleasantly. “Lady Maria has been asleep for the past hour.” I tapped a fingernail on the stone, keeping my voice light. “But I met Cecilia sneaking outside not a quarter past.” I leaned towards him, almost touching my hand to his. “Would you happen to know any reason why such a well-bred young lady as her might be trying a thing such as that?”

“Of course not,” Peregrine said, sounding offended. “You have not yet answered my question, friend.”

What friendliness had been in my tone and posture turned to ice. “‘Friend’ may be a touch presumptuous, but I shall answer nonetheless. I am awake because I only just arrived from the Haunted Woods to find an illusion of my father’s ghost in this very spot, and now I am worried for my mother’s sanity and my sister’s honor.” I gently touched his hand, letting him feel my claw-like fingernails. “Please leave so that I have no cause to worry that you might harm either of those, _friend_.”

Silently, the electric Acara stepped back and doffed his hat with a bow. “I shall not forget this,” he said, stepping into the relative shadows of the hedges. “Goodnight, Lord Serefini.”

“Goodnight, Lord Peregrine.” I sighed, leaning more heavily on the fountain. “I would not expect you to.”

I stayed where I was, watching him leave the gardens with as much offended dignity as he could muster. As he disappeared, I smiled sadly. Gone were the days when I cared about my reputation; that would be ruined as soon as the nobility knew my history in the Haunted Woods and my current status at the Academy of Mystic Arts. Thus, I had no compunctions about insulting nobles to ensure that my family stayed safe.

I pushed off the stone basin, suddenly weary. I doubted I would be able to sleep easily or well; worries and nightmares haunted my dreams at the best of times. This was not the best of times, and here there was nobody to hold me if I awoke in the middle of the night shaking with fear. I pulled my coat closer and resigned myself to a night that would be far too long and sleepless.


	4. Chapter 4

The night was long, but morning still came far too soon. I was woken by an impersonal rap on my door and groaned. I could remember my student days so easily now; the scent of the room, the feel of the sheets, the sound of the door. In a few more seconds, Katrina would be saying...

“Gianni, I know you’re awake. If you want to get to the Ark early enough to accomplish your goals before the ball begins, you must leave soon.”

I forced myself out of bed; unlike my student years, I didn’t feel the tiredness in my mind. Now, I felt it in my body. I suppressed a groan as I moved to my closet and chose the nearest set of clean clothing that came to hand. Almost all my clothes were subdued, colors suited to my fur and the woods in which I dwelt. I didn’t mind, and I doubted the students and professors at the Ark would mind either. Mother and most of her servants, however, would.

I dressed quickly and opened the door to find Katrina still waiting there. She wore her usual black and white uniform, simple but elegantly cut and suited to her form and color. I smiled and bowed with a flourish. “Good morning, Madame Katrina.”

The silver Wocky laughed. “The kitchen is under orders to accommodate your food-stealing habits, Master Gianni.” She fell into step beside me as I turned towards the servants’ stairs. “I see you recall your old ways still.”

“It’s hard to forget,” I said, allowing her to place her hand on my elbow. “Especially when my sleeping habits return to how they were.”

“I hope you did not stay up too late, Gianni.” Katrina’s voice was gently chastising. “Your mother expects you to be presentable and sociable during the ball.”

I sighed. “Cecilia tried to sneak out of the mansion last night wearing naught but a night-shift. I took her back to bed, but when I exited to the gardens, I found Lord Peregrine.” I fell silent, waiting to see if Katrina had any comment. All the reaction I received was a tightening of her hand on my arm as we descended the stairs. “What think you, Madame?”

“I think you are stepping into dangerous waters.” Katrina’s voice was barely audible, even to my ears. “Please, young master, do not alarm your mother at this time. I will deal with Cecilia; I have suspected her night-time activities for some time, and it is a simple matter to put a stop to.” She stopped midway down the stairs, gripping my arm tightly. “Do not tell the lady about Lord Peregrine’s intrusion; without a strong man in the mansion, he has become her source of solace.”

Her words dripped with distaste, and I raised my eyebrows. “Surely...”

Katrina shook her head. “If you allow, we may speak after the ball, when the lady has retired.”

I bowed my head in silent acquiescence and continued down the stairs. Upon reaching the door, I opened it for Katrina and allowed her to precede me into the kitchens. I couldn’t help but smile at the overwhelming variety of scents. I didn’t have time to pick and choose the best of what was available; I simply found the old standbys that had sometimes felt I lived off: bread, cheese, a slice of meat, and an apple. I bowed to Katrina one more time and took my leave, eating as I walked.

I had rarely had cause to enter the stables; I hadn’t enjoyed the idea of riding another person to the Ark each day and I disliked even more riding the Whinny and Alabriss we kept, and as I grew used to walking to the Ark I found I did not mind walking shorter distances. When Mother insisted I take a carriage, she arranged for it and often rode with me. As such, when I entered the stables I was unsure of what to expect. I found a clean set of rooms with all the accommodations one could desire, and more frivolities than most servants were allotted.

As I looked around, a young blue Mynci came up to me and bowed. “Lord Serifini? The lady requested you take a mount today, and suggested Johannes. As he agreed, he’ll be taking you to the Institute Arcanus today.”

I nodded my head. “Very good. Please, introduce me to Johannes.”

The Mynci bowed again and led me through the building to a field. A cream Uni with tan spots and splotches looked up and then bowed his head. “Lord Serefini, I assume? My name is Johannes, and it would be my honor to bear you to the Institute; I have heard wonderful things of it.”

“It is a pleasure, Johannes.” I looked at him thoughtfully, then glanced at the Mynci. “You may go.” I approached the Uni, pleased to see that he had already been saddled. I swung myself up and seated myself firmly. “Please go at whatever pace you desire,” I said. “I used to walk to the Ark and back; any pace of your will be faster than mine.”

Johannes laughed. “Hold on,” he advised. I crouched down over his neck, gripping as tightly as I dared with both arms and legs. As soon as I’d settled myself he began to run.

I had never experienced anything like it. The sheer power of Johannes’s body and muscles, transferred to me as I held on... it was glorious. I had to tighten my grip to ensure I wouldn’t fall from the Uni’s sun-gilded back, and, though I was almost certain my grip was tight enough to be painful for the Uni, Johannes didn’t slow until we were most of the way to the Ark. When he finally did and I was able to sit normally in the saddle, I was panting, as was he. Through quick breaths, I said, “Never go that fast again. Please.”

Johannes let out a wheezing laugh. “As you wish, m’lord. But you did give me free rein.”

“I regret that now,” I said. I wasn’t entirely sure if I spoke the truth emotionally, but mentally I was sure that I never wanted to repeat that experience; it was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

I looked around and was pleasantly surprised to find that I recognized the landscape. If our current pace was any measure, and my memory was any good still, it would be less than half an hour until we reached the Ark proper. I expected that the return trip would take longer, as I had forbidden Johannes his glory-speed, but I didn’t imagine it would take more than an hour and a half, all told. I had plenty of time to look up illusionists and return for Mother’s ball, and I expected to use it.

Johannes kept up his swift and steady pace; it was somewhere between a walk and a trot, but I wasn’t familiar enough with Uni gaits to tell the difference. I knew that he was making wonderful time to the Ark, and I suspected that if I had caught my breath, he had caught his. I tapped his creamy neck gently. “Johannes, when did you join our servants?”

“About the time you last visited, m’lord.” Johannes tossed his head, glancing back at me with one eye. “I remember hearing everyone talking about you and having no idea who you were. Not long after, the topic switched to Lord Peregrine. But that’s faded now,” he added, after we’d continued in silence for a minute or two. “It’s back on you again.”

“Thank you, Johannes,” I said absently. “That’s... interesting.”

Johannes didn’t say anything to me for the rest of the journey, nor did I try to initiate conversation once more. I was too caught up in my musings, most of which revolved around Mother, Cecilia, Lord Peregrine, and the illusory ghost. Johannes almost had to shout to rouse me from my mind when we arrived at the Ark. I thanked him briefly as I dismounted, still caught in the dreamland of thoughts, and entered the gates of the Institute Arcanus Brightvale in the same way I always had: without paying any attention to the beautiful architecture that characterized the Ark.

To be fair, few students cared what the buildings they studied in looked like, so long as they served their purpose. But, after living in the Haunted Woods for years, I understood the aesthetic value of the Brightvalian buildings. The Library in particular was distinctive, with its oddly separate placement on the campus; it stood on a lawn covered in sparse trees, the central area around which the Ark curved and cradled. In the center of the lawn, there was a stand of tall trees; those formed the basic structure of the Library, a marvel of magic and architecture that Celeste, the Ark’s founder, had worked with Illusen to produce.

I loved the Library, as did almost every student. As I entered the grove, I stepped up the roots that had become stairs, heading for the central desks. Librarians waited there; few, if any, students tried to memorize the often chaotic organization of the Library, but the librarians either had exceptional memories or spells to aid them. I approached one, a Hissi with creamy pink scales, and paused, waiting for him to acknowledge my right to access the Library.

The Hissi looked up, and his sky-colored eyes met mine for the briefest of instants. He bowed. “Serefini, it is an honor to have you return.”

I bowed in return. “I am honored, Librarian. May I have knowledge of where your books on illusions and illusionists currently living in Brightvale and Meridell are?”

The librarian closed his eyes, humming to himself. His head wove back and forth and his tail traced patterns in the air. I waited for him silently. At last, the Hissi opened his eyes. “Books on illusion magic are on level three, tree eight. Illusionists are on level three, tree nine. Best of luck, Serefini.” He bowed again, and I echoed his bow before turning to the trees.

Once, I had memorized the structures that allowed movement between the Library’s trees. Now, I simply moved to the ninth tree – they were counted clockwise from the prime, or north, tree – and began climbing the stairs built onto its side. The first level was not, as one might expect, the level the reference desk was on, but the next one up from there. I climbed past that, and the next, until I reached the third platform braced on the grove’s thick, twisting, limbs. As I expected, few students were in the area this early; illusions were a favored study option, and I had spent long hours in this area myself.

With a smile, I began walking down the aisles, looking at the brass words marking out the subject of each. I ran my fingers lightly over the books as I passed them; the Haunted Woods had nowhere near the number of books as Brightvale, and, at last, I felt like I was home again.


	5. Chapter 5

I paused in my reading of a thick book detailing the factors that determined how far a mage could be from their illusion, flicked a hand, and murmured a few words, calling an image of my home into the air.

With a twitch of my fingers, I pulled the model in front of me and looked it over with a critical eye. It seemed accurate to the necessary degree. A thought later, the fountain where the illusion of my father had appeared shone gold. Around that point, the maximum distance the mage could have been from it received an overlay of red.

I looked back at the book and frowned. Unless the mage casting this illusion was more skilled than I expected – I was basing my assumptions on that this mage was breaking the laws of magic – he had to be much closer. A whisper later, a purple glaze encompassed my guess of the mage’s limits.

The purple covered far more of the gardens than I liked, but at least it didn’t extend into the manor anymore. I glanced back at the equations and nodded. This was a close enough approximation. I set the book on a table where I had already accumulated quite a pile. Now relatively distraction-free, I focused on the illusion and my memory of last evening. There may have been a servant or two within the magic-radius, but the only people who I knew had been within it were myself, Mother, and likely Cecilia.

I grimaced as I thought further. Lord Peregrine may have been within the area as well, and I didn’t like the feel of that at all.

Of the options, I knew that I hadn’t cast any illusions, and that Mother barely knew anything about magic. Cecilia likely had the capability to learn magic, but there would have been talk of it if she had. Unless that was what—

I bit back a curse and dispelled the illusion. As I buried my head in my hands, I tried to find any other logical reason for Cecilia’s nighttime escapade. I couldn’t. Peregrine’s name had been in the Ark’s records, though only for a short time; he had the skill, if not the training, for magic.

I had to talk to someone who knew him better. Katrina came to mind, but I couldn’t talk to her until after the ball, for as soon as I returned home, Mother would sweep me into her preparations with a scolding for having left at all. Never mind that she had agreed that I could go to the Ark – I should never have wanted to come here. Never mind that I had found what I thought was key to this mystery – she would not forgive me for leaving.

I sighed and straightened myself. There would be time, I promised myself, time to talk to Katrina, to Cecilia and perhaps even Lord Peregrine. And, once I was sure, to Mother. No matter what perspective I tried to show to her, she would not accept it without overwhelming proof.

I left the books where they were as I rose. It was too much trouble to reshelve them, and there were always students interested to see what people left out. I had once been one of those students, almost living in the library when I was between classes, but now I walked through the rows of bookshelves absently, paying little attention to the multitude of titles. I listened as I walked, waiting for sign of other people in the library, but I didn’t find any until I began descending the spiraling stairs.

As I descended, I heard laughter and shushing voices coming from one of the side rooms. As I passed by, I glanced inside. Three students sat there teasing a blushing fourth, a young purple Shoyru. She was the only to see me, and rose and followed me, letting her friends continue their conversation. I searched my memory for anyone who had looked like her when I’d been at the Ark. I couldn’t think of anyone, but when the Shoyru spoke I placed her in my mind. “Sir Serefini?” she said, her voice light and quiet. “My father speaks of you often.”

I stopped on the stairs and turned to face her. “Kath, isn’t it? Kathleen Cavanaugh?” I smiled. “Your father speaks well of your studies.”

“Father says you’re a wonderful friend.” Kath dipped her head. “If you have time, he’d like to see you. He’s teaching now.”

I laughed. “What’s he teaching? Conjuration?”

Kath smiled, dimpling her cheeks. “The philosophy of magic. Your subject, he said.”

“Doug teaches _philosophy_?” I ran a hand through my hair, barely believing it. Dougal Cavanaugh had always loved fire, explosions, and other dangerous magics. Even in his sporadic letters to me, Doug usually spoke only of his experiments with explosive properties and the like, with a few mentions of his family or the Ark’s politics. “If he’s got a class going now, I doubt he’ll mind if I just came inside and start listening in. Would you mind leading the way?”

“Not at all.” Kath grinned, then leapt off the open staircase. I shook my head and continued walking down. She had wings, she was young; she deserved to have some fun.

When I reached the bottom of the steps, I bowed to the librarians before following Kath into the Ark’s green. She didn’t talk much as we walked, and what she did say related to changes that had been made to the Ark between when I’d been a student and now. I mostly paid attention, but my mind was elsewhere, in the world of illusions that I had been trying to leave behind. I think Kath noticed, because about halfway to Doug’s classroom she fell silent as well. The rest of the walk passed quickly, and I laughed when I saw the building Doug was teaching in. “The Castle? Really?”

Kath smiled demurely. “He’s one of the more important members of the Ark, sir.”

“Please, call me Giovanni.” I opened the door and allowed Kath to precede me into the Castle, the Ark’s most distinctive building. She led me through the quiet halls to one of the largest classrooms, and even in the hall I could hear Doug’s words, the cadence of his speech that had hypnotized those around him even when he was a student. I smiled and bowed to Kath. “Thank you.”

She curtseyed and left, presumably returning to her studies. I slipped inside the classroom and stepped to the back of the hall. Only when I stood there did I turn my attention to Doug. The blue Lupe’s fur had silvered since last I’d seen him, but he was otherwise unchanged. As his voice rose and fell, I glanced at the students; most of them seemed half-asleep.

I grinned and snapped my fingers, whispering a few words. A brilliant bloom of illusory fire sprung up from my fingers, and I released it to play upon the wall, creating the image of a twisting tree. Doug stopped speaking at the appearance of fire, and I could see glee light his face as soon as he saw me.

“Come up here!” he called, waving at the podium. “Tell these nit-wits about one of your theories of illusion.”

“You sure?” I dismissed the illusion with a wave of my hand, placed my hands in the pockets of my coat, and began walking up to the front of the room. I kept my voice light, not trying to project as Doug did; the students would listen. “Last time I did, students began trying to play tricks on me.”

Doug shrugged. “Do you really think they can play those sorts of tricks on me?”

I laughed. “They succeeded, sometimes.”

“Oh.” He quieted for a moment. “Still, speak for a time? Our current topic is suited to you quite nicely.”

“Illusions. Yes, I heard.” I stepped up next to the Lupe and grinned at my friend. “Any time limit?”

He placed an arm around my shoulders and pulled me to his side. “Not for you.”

I heard the class groan and glanced at Doug. “You wanted to talk to me, I want to talk to you, and Mother insists that I return before supper.” The ripple of laughter, quickly stifled, brought a smile back to my face. “You get as much as I can think of before they – or I – get bored.”

“Acceptable.”

Doug didn’t move, nor did I ask him to. I leaned on the podium, trusting it would hold my weight and not caring if I crumpled Doug’s notes. “You’re talking about illusions, I know. I don’t know what you’re talking about and what you’ve already covered, so bear with me if I repeat something.” I tapped my fingers on the wood. “As he didn’t introduce me, I suppose I shall begin there.

“My name is Giovanni Serefini, de facto Lord Serefini. I grew up on the Meridell-Brightvale border and went to school here, specializing in illusions and the philosophy of magic, though Doug convinced me to try some of the labs.” I smiled. “He’s thus the one responsible for what I now look like.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Doug said in mock outrage. “I wasn’t even in the area when that happened.”

I glanced at him, and he quieted. “I suppose this relates to illusions, because I used to be a normal green Kougra, even one considered handsome, and now I seem mutated. My Mother, and most of the non-magical community I was a part of, asked me why I didn’t ‘magic myself better’. Have you gotten far enough to explain to me why I couldn’t?”

Silence met my words, as I expected. I waited, likely longer than Doug would ever have managed. I could feel the Lupe shift his weight, trying not to look or act impatient. Eventually, I saw a tentative hand raise. I smiled and nodded at the student, a silver Pteri. The student spoke slowly and careful, as if unsure. “Because the rules don’t let you because you could make yourself look like someone else entirely?”

“Exactly.” I grinned and waved a hand, willing colors to form as my hand passed through the air. My face appeared there as it once had been, proud and spring-green with navy stripes and the same dark eyes. As I twitched my fingers, the colors slowly shifted to olive-green and gray-blue, the colors of my mutated self. “I could wear my own face, but is it truly my own now that I have changed?” I snapped my fingers, dispelling the illusion. “Think upon that as I talk to Doug.” I stepped back, ducking out from Doug’s arm and walking towards the teachers’ exit.

Behind me, I heard the rustle of paper and the too-loud scrapes of chairs rising over the slowly growing chatter of the students. Doug’s footsteps were quieter, though his shoes clicked upon the polished wooden floor. I exited and waited for Doug to catch up and begin leading me to his office. As I expected, he shut the door and began silently guiding me through the twisting back corridors of the Castle with a hand on my shoulder. I waited, knowing he couldn’t stay quiet for long.

“You should visit more,” Doug said. “I’ve missed you.”

I shook my head with a smile. “I have obligations too. You should come to the Woods for once.”

Doug didn’t say anything.

I dropped my eyes to the ground, watching our synchronized footsteps as the silence stretched on. “I miss him too,” I finally said. “Doug, I know you two were closer. I left. You stayed. But...”

“It’s not Cael,” the Lupe snarled, stepping away from me. “At least, not entirely.” His breathing came fast and harsh, and I could see his clenched hands. “Do you know what’s been happening around here?”

“Consider where I live and how little information you choose to trust to couriers,” I said dryly. “I don’t receive very much information from this region.”

“Illusions, ghosts, rumors of necromancy—” Doug slashed a hand through the air, flickers of fire trailing behind his fingers. “Gianni, this is your specialty. How can you not know what’s going on?”

I stepped forward and grabbed his hands, heedless of the fire. “Doug, shut up and calm down. I don’t get news from outside the Woods anymore because I’m a teacher and not a hunter. Siobhan and I left that behind because we were growing too old to easily deal with the travel and the strain of binding or banishing ghosts.”

“You should still know this.” Doug smiled, his ears flicking back. “The rumors are centered upon the houses of Serefini and Peregrine.” His fingers bit into mine. “Do you know what that means?”

I closed my eyes. “I... I am aware of what is happening at the Serefini mansion.” My tail was lashing nervously, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. “Mother asked me to come because of it. I’m trying to figure out what’s going on; that’s why I came here.”

Doug relaxed his grip. “Anything you ask for is yours. Get to the bottom of this before the Ark gets in trouble.”

I managed a smile, and nodded.


	6. Chapter 6

The ride back home was uneventful, and I was grateful for that. Johannes kept his thoughts to himself, and I returned to trying to understand what was happening. Lord Isaiah Peregrine was involved; any doubts about that had vanished at Doug’s words. I simply wished I was sure that Isaiah himself was the spellcaster. True, it was the likeliest solution, but it felt too simple, too neat, like there was some complication I was missing. I sighed, and tried to put thoughts of illusions out of my mind for the duration of the ride home.

Brightvale was beautiful, in the afternoon’s light, and I knew that. It wasn’t what I wanted right now, however; I wanted to see the mist rise from scrubby ground and muddy soil and hear Whoot calling softly in the shadows. I wanted to hear the clicking of old branches as wind blew, the creak and groan of wood rubbing against its kin. I wanted the Haunted Woods and the simpler darkness that resided there, not these complex webs where the most elaborate plans always fell the furthest and the charm built up around a house so often hid corruption in a twisted illusion of grandeur.

I could want all I wished and it would bring me no closer to understanding what was happening here. I tapped Johannes’s brown-spotted shoulder. “We’re almost there, aren’t we?”

The Uni nodded, glancing up at me but not saying anything.

“Let’s get home quickly, please.”

Johannes laughed and gave me barely enough time to take firm grip before he began to run. This time, I managed to stay with him better, for I was prepared for the onslaught of motion and emotion: flow and fear and elation woven into a beautiful whole that left me breathless when we neared the Serefini mansion and Johannes slowed his pace. Beneath me, Johannes’s breath came deep and heavy and I could feel him quivering slightly. I stroked his shoulder as I straightened in the saddle.

As I looked towards the mansion, I frowned. There was something playing just at the edge of my senses, a touch of magic that felt wrong, for lack of a better word. Not the chill wind of ghosts or the pure light of illusion, but something closer to the bitter frost of graveyards that, once, I had oft visited. Doug’s voice echoed in my head. Rumors of necromancy, he’d said. I hissed. “Johannes, please take me to the garden as quickly as possible without tiring yourself further.”

I felt Johannes’s questions, but he obeyed and didn’t ask. I was grateful for that, as I was focusing on that quiet feeling and trying to understand it better. Death blew around me as Johannes bore me closer to the garden, closer to the source of the feeling. I held on with my legs, my hands waving free in the air as I pulled on the innate magic of the land I was connected to by my blood, trying to ask it to explain to me what was going on in the garden, what was the core of the wrongness I so easily felt.

I got little response, and what I did receive was much what I already knew: something was wrong and it had to do with a body lying underground. I cursed. Necromancy was on the list of forbidden magics for a very good reason: it destroyed the natural order of the world for no reason other than a mage’s whims. I pulled at the land’s magic, asking it to reject the power suffusing it.

It didn’t want to.

I started swearing as creatively and eloquently as I knew how, and almost vaulted off Johannes as he reached the edge of the garden. My body protested the exertion; it wasn’t used to this anymore. Cursing with each exhalation of breath, I ran through the hedges and flowers to the Weewoo statue and Father’s grave, reaching out with magical senses I hadn’t used in years. The colors flowing over my eyes obscured my vision, and I started cursing the things I stepped on, tripped over, or ran into as I made my now-stumbling way through the garden.

Fortunately, I didn’t have much father to go. I hadn’t even reached the clearing where the statue stood when I heard a strong baritone voice speaking words I couldn’t understand. I knew the voice: Lord Isaiah Peregrine. I snarled and took the final steps into the clearing. “What in the name of Fyora are you _doing_?”

Peregrine turned to face me, and as he turned I saw my sister in his arms, a faint trickle of red spilling from her shoulder. He smiled, showing sharp teeth. “Exactly what your sister requested of me, Lord Serefini.”

I breathed slowly, trying to calm myself down. My nails dug into the palms of my hands hard enough to hurt. “My lord,” I said tightly, “please release my sister.”

He laughed and pulled one lightning-striped arm free from supporting Cecilia. “My dear boy, she asked me for help. How could I refuse such a beautiful lady as she?”

“My lord.” I began carefully flicking out my fingers, holding patterns of magic in my head. Light intertwined with the deep green-brown of the earth, seeking to protect Father’s body. “I do not understand why a forbidden art was called for, or why you knew of it.”

“I didn’t.” Peregrine shrugged casually. Cecilia’s arms flopped limply. The fur at the back of my neck stood on end, and it was all I could do to keep a carefully polite expression. Peregrine gave me another predatory smile as he stepped closer. “This little angel of Maria’s found out that I had some few sparks of magical talent and had once trained at the Institute – for only a year; it held little interest to me – and she asked me if I could bring her father back. I, of course, acquiesced.”

My light-weavings wrapped around Father’s coffin, and I relaxed marginally. “If you studied at the Institute, why then did you agree to the use of necromancy and illusion?”

“I didn’t.”

I lashed out at him with an ill-conceived spell of wind and force. It hit Peregrine’s shoulder, and he staggered back a step, almost dropping Cecilia. I took a ragged breath. “Peregrine, release the spell before I am forced to unweave it.”

The Acara tilted his lightning-streaked head, feather in his hat waving. “Can you do that?”

I just smiled. The art of deconstructing spells was rarely taught except to the most promising students. I had been fascinated by it when I first learned, and Siobhan and I had spent many hours trying to figure out exactly how it worked. The end result was that I was very good at dispelling magic, but I needed to have assurance that my body would be safe. Thus why Siobhan and I worked together so well; the Ruki and I shored up each others’ weaknesses.

Lord Peregrine knew nothing of this. I suspected he believed I was bluffing; he had no reason to believe me. His words and the cock-eyed smile on his face confirmed my impression. “Lord Serefini, I do believe magic has more power than that.”

I laughed, closed my eyes, and dove into the realm of magic.

All around me colors wove and twirled, shining brilliantly to my eyes. The dark stain of silver necromancy filled my vision as it twisted around my shield of tightly-woven light. I took a breath, spinning my energy into light and pulling life gently from the garden. I formed the light into a loose net, tossing it over the necromancy. It barely reacted. I was unsurprised; most spells were set for a certain purpose, and if something outside that purpose interfered it was difficult for the mage to notice and adapt the spell; most didn’t even know how to allow for that.

I could. I just rarely did because there was little reason. Here, now... I took a deep breath and pulled the necromancy spell toward me. As I had suspected, it was tied to my sister. As carefully as I knew how, I pulled Cecilia’s gentle golden spirit out of the spell and let it drift back to her. I turned my attention to the rest of the spell, the lightning-struck silver and gray, and found it already dissolving, turning into mist and shadows and spirit once more. I hesitated, then released the shadows back into the world, opening my eyes and taking back my light.

Peregrine’s dusk-blue fur was dark against his whitened face. I raised my eyebrows. “Magic does have more power than that, Lord Peregrine,” I said quietly. “That power is in the wielder as much as the magic itself, however.” I moved close enough to take my waking sister from his arms. Right in his face, I smiled and murmured, “Please don’t get me wrong, Peregrine – I bear you no ill will for using necromancy. However, I do bear you ill will for using my sister to fuel your necromancy.”

Cecilia stirred in my arms as I stepped back, and I gently held her as she found her balance once more. She looked up at me, and shock and fear played across her face and her beautiful eyes. She turned to Peregrine and backed away, pressing herself against me. “M— m— monster!”

I gripped her starry shoulders. “Cecilia, Lord Peregrine said that you asked him to cast a necromantic spell.”

She shook her head violently, golden hair waving and brushing against my chin.

Lord Peregrine laughed. “My dear, don’t lie to your magus brother.”

“I’m not.” Cecilia whirled and stepped away from me, eyes narrowing. “I never asked for that.”

I crossed my arms. “What exactly is ‘that’?”

She looked away. “Not what I meant, when I asked for my father back.”

The silence stretched, the only sound the cheerful burble of water from the Weewoo’s beak. At last, Peregrine coughed delicately. “I’m afraid I must take my leave, my lord, my lady. Lady Merle has asked for a ball, after all.”

I bowed silently.

The electric Acara gave me a tight smile and retreated, his bright green eyes burning into me.

As soon as he was out of my sight, I grabbed Cecilia’s arm and pulled her back to the mansion, ignoring her complaints that I was hurting her. Near the mansion, I released her and escorted her inside, handing her off to a footman with a bow. I walked down the servants’ corridor, cold rage pulled around me as a shield. I opened Katrina’s door without warning and closed it behind me more quietly than I expected. “Tell me,” I said, “what do you know of Cecilia’s nighttime wanderings?”

Katrina sat back down in her chair, looking down at silver paws. “Giovanni, please.”

I leaned on the door and crossed my arms. “Katrina, I need to know, and I doubt she’ll talk to me now.”

“What happened, Gianni?” The elderly Wocky rose, looking worried.

I shook my head, refusing to meet her eyes.

“Stop acting like a child, Giovanni.”

“Katrina...” I sighed, spreading my hands. “Tell me what you know and I will tell you what happened.”

“Cecilia wanted to learn magic.” Katrina’s words came out quickly, clipped and sharp. “She thought she could have your attention and approval if she followed in your footsteps. Giovanni, you’re the closest thing she had to a father.”

I looked up at that, meeting Katrina’s anguished eyes. “But I left.”

“She was four when you left, Gianni. She can remember it.” Katrina placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing slightly. “Please don’t hurt her, young master. I don’t think she’d be able to take it from you.”

“I—” My eyes dropped back to the floor. “Katrina, Lord Peregrine was using her blood to work necromancy. I stopped him, but...”

Katrina took a sharp breath. “Your mother will never believe you.”

I smiled grimly. “She doesn’t need to.” I turned and opened the door. “Please send a message to Doug, Katrina. I believe a professor as distinguished as he can arrive at Lady Merle’s ball without causing too much of a fuss, don’t you?”

Katrina laughed. “I do believe you’re right.”

I returned the laugh, bowed to her, and made my way upstairs to prepare for the ball.


	7. Chapter 7

The next few hours were as boring as I expected them to be. Mother fussed, Cecilia shrank from me, and I did my best to stay out of everyone’s way. Within the carriage Mother forced us to ride in, however, there was no place to hide. I sat beside Cecilia on one side, and Mother sat facing us, her white-gloved hands resting primly in her lap. Cecilia looked out the window, her hair falling in soft curls to block her face from my sight. Beneath her deep rose dress, I could see her tail twitching nervously, much as my mine was.

I sat in my corner of the carriage, one boot resting upon the seat cushion as I watched my mother and sister. I tugged at the tie Mother had insisted I wear, trying to loosen it enough that I didn’t worry about being choked. I couldn’t help but worry as the carriage rolled onward, pulled by two of the strongest Whinny we kept. If Peregrine decided to disappear, I could do nothing about it and my request for Doug would be wasted. Yet, that worried me far less than the thought that Cecilia would bar me from her life after the afternoon’s happenings.

Mother broke me out of her thoughts with the request I had hoped she’d forgotten. “Gianni, will you not wear your beautiful face once more?”

I glanced over at her, seeing Cecilia do the same. “My response is as it ever has been,” I replied. “The laws forbid illusions of that sort, and I have worn this face for so long that it, not my unscarred features, is my true form.”

“Why?” Cecilia asked, the first word I’d heard her speak since Lord Peregrine left.

“Why to what part of it?”

She gave a slight shrug. “The true form part, I suppose.”

Behind her words, her eyes seemed to be asking something more. I hesitated, trying to formulate a coherent, simple, explanation for her.

“The way form is defined by magic is the form that a body will return to if healed,” I said at last. “If I repaired a broken sword, it would want to return to its sword shape. A plow, the same. A broken bone wishes to heal straight and true. Burned fur wants to regrow the same color as it used to be. My scars came from my own magic, my mutation from my own power. I reshaped my body, if ever so slightly, and while that would have been as illegal as illusion had I done it intentionally, that the explosion and effect surprised me as much as anyone else was deemed enough punishment, as nobody could heal me or explain to me how to reverse the effect.” I spread my hands. “Does that answer your question?”

Slowly, Cecilia nodded. “Thank you.”

I smiled, but her green eyes turned away from me, and each of us returned to our private reveries as the carriage bore us to Lady Merle’s ball.

Once there, our carriage’s driver, a blue Kyrii, opened the door and handed Mother and Cecilia out of the carriage. I exited, and the Kyrii turned the Whinny silently and they pulled the carriage away to the stables. Mother gave a polite cough and I sighed, bowing and offering her my arm. She rested her hand lightly on my elbow and drew me onwards, Cecilia trailing behind us. A footman opened the door to Lady Merle’s house for us, the green Lutari bowing and murmuring polite greetings. I endured the sudden increase in noise and light as we entered, assuming Mother would keep me from doing anything horridly impolite.

I was correct in that assumption; Mother led me through the crowd without pause, even as I adjusted to the light and sound. I could not tell where she led me at first, though I thought she was aiming for the hostess. The red Usul wore a golden gown, and though I knew her reputation for beauty, next to the man she stood conversing with she paled to nothing. The shadow Gelert wore an impeccable suit as pristine a black as his fur and hair, with a white shirt and a cravat a deep rose red. The only thing less than perfect about his countenance was a scar running down the side of his face, but even that created a dashing effect, not an unpleasant one.

Mother paused a few steps in front of the pair. Lady Merle turned and saw us, and with a pleased smile curtseyed to us. I bowed in return, and Mother said, “Lady Merle, this is my son, Lord Giovanni, a mage of some power. May I have the pleasure of knowing who you speak with?”

Lady Merle inclined her head to the Gelert and said, “This is Mr. Harlan Lockwood, an acquaintance of mine from Meridell. He is – was? – apprenticed to the Royal Sorcerer, Lady Lisha Borodere.”

Lockwood bowed ever so slightly. “Please, call me Lockwood. It is a pleasure to meet another sorcerer – we seem to have so few in Meridell."

I smiled, despite Lockwood’s cold manner. “It certainly is; I had not expected to see any such as you here tonight.” Beside us, Lady Merle engaged Mother in conversation, and they began to drift off. I let them; I cared little for what Mother talked of with her friends. 

“Is that so?” Lockwood said, words impeccably polite. “How intriguing! And what sort [i]did[/i] you expect to see?”

I waved a hand. “Ladies and their escorts, the sort who would come to a social event of chatter, which this is so much more than a true ball with focus on music and dance.”

“I confess I have never considered the matter. What is there to draw us to even so charming a ball as this, apart from the society?"

“Truthfully, it is that my mother agreed in my name.” I winced mentally as Lockwood’s face betrayed the barest hint of a smile. “I come here rarely, and she believes I would be more likely to stay if she brought me into societies eyes. The real result is that I find myself staying away.”

Lockwood’s polite expression never faltered, though I thought I could see something that was either contempt or boredom behind his mask. “Is that so? Then, if I may inquire, why are you here today? Setting aside, of course, a desire to gratify us all with your presence."

“Brightvale’s magical library is far more extensive than the collection the Haunted Woods have,” I said, on easier ground here. “I had a need to see some specialized books.”

“I believe my dear friend Lisha would positively revel in your company, for she is a great lover of books, you know,” said Lockwood. “There is really nothing dearer to her heart than a good library. I am very sorry she is not here to have the pleasure.”

I bowed, catching his hint. “A pleasure, Mr. Lockwood. Perhaps some other time I shall visit Meridell Castle itself, and have the delight of Lady Lisha’s company.”

“Perhaps so,” Lockwood agreed, returning my bow. He turned and moved into the circles of humanity that eddied and flowed through the ballroom, occasionally spreading into other nearby rooms or the Merle’s garden.

I watched the patterns, not particularly interested in finding any face but my sister’s, Doug’s, or Peregrine’s. Of the three, I suspected the one I was most likely to see was Peregrine’s; his distinctive hat and his height would make him fairly easy to spot. Doug, if he came, would find me before I found him, I knew. But the other two, I was unsure about. Cecilia could take care of herself better than I, in this situation, and if she didn’t want me to find her I had no doubt that she wouldn’t be found. And Peregrine likely had the same sense and ability.

As the crowd swirled around me, I slowly made my way to a corner where I would feel less lost, less in the way. There, I leaned against a wall and waited. I doubted anyone would choose to come near me; my face was not the sort that invited conversation from those who knew me not. And so I watched and waited and worried, trying to keep myself from fading into daydreams born of boredom. I didn’t succeed very well, for by the time I saw Doug’s silver-touched face I was remembering days where I could simply sneak away from the balls.

When I did catch sight of Doug, however, he simply grinned and jerked his head in a ‘come hither’ motion before disappearing back into the crowd. I groaned, but followed him as best I could, murmuring polite ‘excuse me’s whenever I bumped into someone. When at last I caught up to Doug, he was at the edge of the area set up for dancing, staring at a particular couple. I followed his gaze and muttered a curse. Cecilia was dancing with Peregrine, a fairly slow waltz that I knew could last for quite a while.

“I thought you’d like to know,” Doug said, glancing at me. “Thank you for the message, by the way; it didn’t explain much, but what you said was enough.”

I nodded curtly. “I didn’t tell Katrina much. Is there anything you want to know that I didn’t imply?”

“Why?” the Lupe asked, gesturing broadly towards the dancing pair. “That’s what I don’t understand. Why now? I searched the records for an Isaiah Peregrine and found him; a dropout who only came for a semester and a half, and that was thirty-six years ago.”

“Because my sister asked, according to him.” I sighed. “He might be lying, but I couldn’t tell.”

Doug laid a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, Gianni.”

The two of us watched silently until the dance came to an end and Cecilia and Peregrine parted. I glanced at Doug and tilted my head towards Cecilia. Doug grinned and headed towards Peregrine, while I trailed my sister. I suspected she knew I was following her, as she seemed intent on moving through the thickest crowds she could. The only reason I managed to stay near her was because kind people helped point my way. Eventually, I caught up to her by a door to a garden where sweet roses bloomed.

The warm late-afternoon sunlight gilded the roses and Cecilia’s fur, caressing especially her bright blonde hair. I stopped in the doorway and watched her, waiting her to turn and see me. She lifted one deep rose to her nose and I could see her inhale. When she released the rose, she turned, and I saw a flash of fear on her face before she returned to the polite mask of a perfect young lady. “Gianni,” she said, curtseying to me. “A pleasure.”

I bowed and stepped down to join her, brushing my fingers across the silken roses and their sharp thorns. “It truly is a pleasure, Cecilia.” I stopped beside her, looking at the flowers. “And my desire to converse with you is very ill-suited to this beautiful place, but I am afraid I must.” I sighed and gently touched her shoulder. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I said softly, trying to get her to meet my eyes. “I promise I won’t hurt you. I’m trying to keep you from getting hurt by anyone, Cece.”

She kept her head bowed, though she looked at me with tear-stained eyes. “Gianni...” She took a deep, sobbing, breath. “Why did Father leave?”

I looked at her, then pulled her into a tight hug. “I don’t know,” I whispered into her golden hair. “I wish I knew, but I don’t. He just left on that trip, and then one thing led to another and...” My words trailed off as I held Cecilia, stroking her hair and trying to calm her sobs. My own vision was blurred by tears, but I didn’t let them fall. I’d cried all those tears already, cried them those nineteen years ago. So I simply held my sister and wished I knew what words I could say to comfort her; I had never needed to learn them before.

After what felt like an hour but I knew was likely only a few minutes, Cecilia raised her head. “Lord Peregrine said that he could bring Father back.”

“I know.” I closed my eyes for a moment before continuing. “Whose idea was it, originally?”

Cecilia looked away from me, but didn’t pull away. “Mine,” she said in a voice almost a whimper. “It was mine.”

I took a sharp breath and closed my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I...” I swallowed, instinctively tightening my arms around her. “There’s only so much I can do to protect you from the law.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I’m sorry too.” She stayed silent for another few seconds, then said, “He brought you here, though. And that’s what I meant, not... not what he tried to do.”

I couldn’t find any words to reply with. Even if I could, I doubted I would be able to speak past the lump in my throat. Instead, I just kissed the top of my sister’s head and promised myself that even if I couldn’t stay I’d come and visit much more often than I had been.

We stood there for longer than I believed possible before a red-gold explosion sent debris over our heads and into the back of my too-fine clothes. I started cursing, as much at Mother for insisting I wear fine silk and lace as at Doug for resorting to destruction. “Stay here.” I gave Cecilia a sharp look. “Try to keep yourself safe.”

I saw her nod, wide-eyed, before I ran inside the now-burning home, weaving threads of magic into a protective shield. I could see the source of the fire and thunderous echoes: Doug, his silvering blue fur stained ashen with his fire, and Lord Isaiah Peregrine, his electric fur sparking with true lightning. My curses intensified. He knew more than I had assumed. All the nobles were fleeing the ballroom, and I spared a fleeting thought for their safety as I passed through them and threw myself to the ground, opening myself to the grounding power of Earth.

_Siobhan should be doing this._

That thought echoed desperately in my head as Earth consumed me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Original author's note: Many thanks to jokerhahaazzz for allowing me to use Lockwood in my story, and for helping me to write the scene with him.)


	8. Chapter 8

I became a magical grounding line, pulling raw power from the mages and running it through my body to the ground. Silver and red-gold and the pure blue of a summer sky: magic in all its glory and forms, in all the colors the Sight opened me to. All around me, all within me, was Magic, pure, untainted, and far too powerful for any mortal – perhaps even any Faerie – to handle. I reached out in desperation, searching for the person I knew better than anyone else, perhaps even better than myself. He was part of the Earth in a way that I could never be.

The strong gold-red-green-blue rope that connected Siobhan to me pulled at my heart, calling me north. With the Earth holding me fast and the Fire and Lightning coursing through my physical body, I knew exactly where I was anchored; it was simply a matter of moving far enough fast enough to touch Siobhan and unleash some of this into him. The wrath of fire and the dance of lightning weren’t what I was used to; my magic was bound to light and darkness and the wind that moved between them.

I breathed my partner’s name in my mind, and on that breath I felt him. First as just a surprised presence, and then as an avalanche of love that I let bury much of the power that carried me to him. I felt him ask a single worried question before the connection broke. It wasn’t anything I could answer, but I tried to send reassurance to him. I rebounded back to my body, opened my mouth, and screamed.

My eyes opened with that scream, and I could see, in that infinitesimal moment, brilliant fire coursing through Doug’s body and shadows and storms writhing around Peregrine’s. I could see each line in the wood, each crack in the stone, each mote of dust floating in the air. I could see everything around me; my ears were filled with the sound of my scream; my fingers caught in the blackened wood beneath me; my every nerve cried out in pain as fire and lightning ran through my veins.

Then Earth closed in and I could breathe again, though I felt disconnected to the world around me. Now, instead of a scream, my panting breaths filled my ears, and I could barely lift my head to see what Doug and Peregrine were doing. When I did, I gave a croaking laugh. They were both staring at me, and neither of them was calling their power anymore. I coughed and croaked out, “Not what you expected?”

Doug’s ears twitched for a moment, and then he started to laugh, shaking with nervous mirth. “By the Faeries, I thought you were—”

“You shone,” Peregrine said, cutting into Doug’s words. “You shone with light strong enough to burn wood.”

I let my head fall back down to inspect the floor. So I had. Ashes and dust, not wood, were in front of me. I shrugged tiredly, sitting back on my knees. “Doug, didn’t you leave fire behind when you became a professor?”

“Never,” Doug said, smiling shamelessly. “It’s far too much fun.”

I glanced at Peregrine.

The Lupe followed my gaze. “Ah, yes, you.” Doug tilted his head to one side, clasping his hands behind his back. “You’ve been a mite of a problem to us, you know,” he said, as he started walking around Peregrine, taking long, steady strides. “Trying to resurrect the dead, casting illusions of the dead, hiding your use of magic from the Institute...” He was halfway around the Acara now, and very deliberately not looking at the lord. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get yourself branded a traitor.”

Sparks started fizzling around Peregrine’s clenched hands. “Lord Cavanaugh, may I remind you that you have no power outside the Institute?” The feather in his hat quivered, and Peregrine’s green eyes narrowed. “You can do nothing to me.”

Doug shrugged and took his last step. The sparks disappeared, and Peregrine looked at his hands in shock. Doug turned to face Peregrine, tail slowly waving in satisfaction. “I can do more than you think.”

I examined my hands, slowly opening and closing them. Though they had taken the brunt of the power flowing through me, they looked just as they used to. They still worked perfectly. I had felt them burning, just as my throat had, just as my arms had, but nothing seemed damaged at all. I raised my eyes again in time to see Peregrine hit the barrier Doug had raised. I smiled. Doug’s instinctive skill for destruction was impressive, but his basic magical talent still showed in his less showy conjurations. Peregrine simply bounced back to the center, thrown away by the backlash.

The Lupe simply raised his eyebrows. “Really, Peregrine?”

“What am I supposed to do?” the lord growled, throwing out one lightning-colored hand. “Stand here and wait for you to pass judgment?”

“That’s the typical strategy,” I said. My voice worked again, I was pleased to hear. I stood, with a wince as much for the ruined clothes as for my aching body, and walked over to Doug. “You’ll find that you can’t do anything right now. Not without an accomplice out here, and I doubt you have one of those.”

Peregrine’s eyes darted behind us, and I felt Doug raise a swift barrier, just in case. Neither of us moved, however, and Peregrine snarled again.

I laughed. “Everyone tries that trick, m’lord. We’re used to it by now.”

“Why do you work together so well?” Peregrine gave another violent wave of his hands. “You can’t have seen each other for years, even if once you both studied here.”

Doug rested his hand on my shoulder. “We’re friends. That doesn’t go away.”

Peregrine made a disgusted noise and turned away from us.

I shook my head and pulled away from Doug. He could handle Peregrine better than I, and I wanted to ensure that Cecilia didn’t try anything rash. I avoided looking at the ashes where I had burnt a hole in the floor to reach the earth and carefully stepped around that spot as I returned to the door and the little garden where I had left Cecilia. As I approached, I saw her still there, and I smiled. She ran and hugged me, tears running down her face and into my shoulder for the second time that evening.

I held her and waited until she had the breath to speak, even in sobbing bursts. When at last she stilled, and simply stayed put, clinging to me like I was keeping her afloat at sea, I gently raised her head and smiled. “I’m fine, Cece,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. “I’m fine.”

“You didn’t—” She swallowed and continued. “I thought you were going to burn.”

“Earth doesn’t burn,” I said simply. “And if I tie myself to earth, then neither can I.”

Cecilia smiled a little. “Wh— what happens now?”

I glanced at Doug and Peregrine. Doug caught my eyes and jerked his head at me. I sighed. “I contact the council and tell them what’s happened.” I hugged her tighter. “I’m sorry, but you’ll need to be a part of this.” I let Cecilia hold on to me for another minute before gently prying her off. I wasn’t familiar enough with any of the Ark’s current council members to risk having her presence interfere with the spell. I closed my eyes and sent an airborne tendril of thought to Doug, who obliged me by giving me a mental signature of the council member I’d know best.

Doug’s laugh echoed in both my mind and head. I sighed and reached out for the mind of Professor Jocelyn Rose, our old teacher and friend. I could feel the red Ogrin’s surprise at my mental touch, but when I started telling him, in the odd combination of images and concepts air-based telepathy allowed, why I had contacted him, the surprise turned into shock, then fear and anger. When I finished by wishing him well, he returned the feelings, with a promise that he would come as quickly as possible to deal with Peregrine.

“Why didn’t you tell me Lyn had reached the council?” I opened my eyes and glared at Doug’s laughing face. “Your sporadic letters come often enough for news like that.”

“I’m sorry.” Doug didn’t sound contrite, but his next words kept me from harping on it. “He asked me not to tell you; said that you wouldn’t agree with his acceptance of the position.” Doug’s normally cheerful eyes darkened, and he glanced down. His next words came out in a rush. “He’s the council’s judge, Gianni. He... you’ve never approved of that position.”

I didn’t say anything. I just sighed and walked over to Doug, Cecilia trailing behind me. Doug was right; I hated the way the Institute’s council was set up. The Academy’s triumvirate of equals was much simpler. “It’s fine,” I said, more harshly than I intended.

Doug glanced at me with a tight smile and a quick shake of his head before turning back to Peregrine. “I suggest you hope that Lyn is lenient with your sister, Gianni. If he’s not...”

I bared my teeth at Doug, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see my expression. Cecilia’s gentle touch on my shoulder smoothed my expression, and I turned. Her starry fur seemed paler than usual, and her eyes were wide. “What’s he talking about?”

“The council’s judge is often jury as well,” I said emotionlessly, watching Cecilia’s expression turn once more towards fear. “And you, as the instigator, have as much to be punished for as Peregrine, who worked the magic.”

“Depending on what Lyn finds, you might even have more reason,” Doug added. His voice held restrained fury, and though I could tell he meant it for Peregrine, I didn’t think Cecilia could. I gathered her into my arms, desperately hoping she wouldn’t return to tears as Doug went on. “The sentence is equal to the crime, unless there’s a very good reason for it to be otherwise. Stole something magically? Use your magic to help out until you’ve repaid the person you stole from. Tried to raise the dead?” Doug laughed harshly.

“Enough!” Peregrine’s sharp voice cut through Doug’s laughter. “Leave the explanation to this Lyn, whoever he is.”

“Only the best mind-mage in the kingdoms,” I said, almost bitter. “Only the man who taught us half of what we know.”

Peregrine took a slow, deep, breath and bowed his head. “Then I await his judgment.”

A faint hiss of magic filled the air. I looked towards the source and smiled bitterly. Very few people were tied to magic in such a way that they could teleport, but Lyn was one of those few. “Good evening,” I said to the Ogrin, trying to keep any hatred out of my voice. “Now the fun begins.”


	9. Chapter 9

Lyn looked at me mournfully as he stepped out of the smoke and sparks. “Gianni...” He said it so gently I almost felt sorry for him. Then I cursed and wove shields around my emotions. I’d forgotten how much he manipulated emotions, even unconsciously. The Ogrin sighed and walked towards us, his black suit so tight around his body that it looked like fur. He was in remarkable shape for his age, but right now all I could think about were his words. “Listen to me, Gianni. I didn’t want this any more than you, but there was no other who would have been fair. Do you understand that?”

I nodded, still disgruntled, but calmer. “Did I give you enough, or do you need to pick our – or their – minds more?”

Lyn met my eyes, and I heard the flicker of his voice, carried and concentrated by fire. _Your sister is either innocent or such a good actor that even I would not be able to break her mask without breaking her._ He smiled and walked past me, giving my shoulder a brief squeeze as I closed my eyes to keep in relieved tears. “Release Peregrine, Doug. I need to touch him to see what he has to say for himself.”

The crack of Doug’s spell ending echoed in the room. I heard Lyn’s footsteps – one, two, three clicks of his boots – and then a sound almost, but not quite, like the roar of a cannon firing. A few seconds later, I turned and looked at Lyn, still holding Cecilia tight. The Ogrin’s hands were still holding Peregrine’s shoulders, and his red head was bowed. As if he could feel my gaze, he raised his head, looked at me, and said, “Guilty.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Doug bowed his head and said, “Go on, then.”

Peregrine started to voice a question, but Lyn’s quiet words overrode his. The Ogrin was one of the few people I knew who keyed their magic from vocalized words; most used some combination of thought and motion. The words were rarely in a language the mage used often; I knew Lyn used old Darigani, and Siobhan usually used the Gypsy tongue, but from what I understood it wasn’t so much the words used as the meaning behind them. Flickers of light appeared around Lyn, and his red fur seemed consumed by fire as the light hissed and fizzled.

Then the light died, and with it the noise.

For a moment I simply stared at the spot they had left from. Then Doug gave a noisy sigh and looked back at me. “Are you going to explain this to them?”

I hesitated. “A version of the truth, yes.”

“You’ve gotten better at lying over the years, then.” Doug gave me a rueful smile. “What version?”

“He threatened you, stuff blew up, you got him under control about the time I got here, I summoned the council, and he got taken away,” I recited quickly. “Not that different from the truth.”

“You still don’t give yourself enough credit.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Doug, I might end up living here again. I don’t want to be seen as a celebrity.”

Doug waved a hand airily, walking off towards where the nobles had disappeared. I let him go, shaking my head slightly as I looked at Cecilia. “He said you’re innocent. Are you going to be alright?”

She gave me a small smile. “Did you mean that, about living here?”

I nodded.

My starry sister hugged me tight for a few seconds before releasing me. She smiled, green eyes bright as emeralds. “I’ll be fine. Go on.”

I followed Doug, catching up to him at the door. We exchanged a glance, then went through together, into the fearful crowd of nobles. Each one demanded an explanation, and by the time we had given them all the explanation they required the sun had set. I thought I saw that shadow Gelert, Harlan Lockwood, for a moment, but before I could be sure the crowds had shifted and he was nowhere to be seen. Part of me wondered where he’d been during Doug and Peregrine’s battle, but I was more focused on not getting disgusted at the nobles not understanding what had happened.

At last everyone dispersed and my family and I could leave. While Mother and Cecilia climbed into the carriage, I watched Doug begin walking back to the Ark. Mother called at me, impatient, and I turned away from the Lupe’s silver-blue silhouette and joined them, still silent, inside. Mother’s yellow-furred face seemed paler, older, than usual, and Cecilia was again staring out the window into the silence. Outside, I heard the soft crack of the driver’s riding crop as the Whinny began moving.

The creaks and moans of the carriage’s movement were the only noises for the longest time. Cecilia sat looking out the window, Mother simply looked at her hands, and I leaned against the corner and closed my eyes, exhausted but unable to sleep while in the bumping, moving vehicle. I kept vague track of the time that passed, simply because I was longing for the comfort of home and sleep, but paid little attention to what was happening around me. Then Mother said, “Cecilia told me you might stay.”

I nodded, not opening my eyes.

“Would...” She sighed. “Siobhan?”

I opened my eyes with a sardonic smile and turned to face her. “Mother, do you really expect me to leave my best friend?”

“You have friends here.” Mother clutched at her purse, looking at me in the same way as when I’d told her I wanted to go to the Woods. “You could send letters.”

“There’s a difference,” I said softly.

She looked away. “I know, Gianni. It’s just...”

I moved next to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Mother, I’ll ask Siobhan if he would even be willing to live here; he’s lived around the Woods most of his life, but he has Gypsy blood. If he’d be willing to, I’d stay.”

Cecilia turned to me and smiled. I returned the expression for a brief moment before looking at Mother worriedly. She still wasn’t looking at me, and I could feel her shaking slightly with tears, but I couldn’t tell if they were joy or sorrow or fear. When at last she looked at me again, her blue eyes were shining. “Thank you,” she said, embracing me. “Thank you.”

I closed my eyes and smiled. When Mother released me, I returned to my seat and my thoughts, hoping that Siobhan would understand why I wanted to return to my childhood home when I told him about this. I could easily see him refusing to join me, and if he didn’t agree I had no idea what I’d do. I tried to keep myself from thinking about it; it wasn’t going to help anything right now. After sleep, and a restoration of the energy I’d spent grounding all the magic flying around, it’d be easier to think everything through. But I couldn’t break the promise I’d given my family.

I sighed and leaned back, letting my head gently thud against the carriage’s side as the silent ride continued. When at last we reached the Serefini mansion once more, the footman – a quiet blue Kyrii – opened the door and I stepped out, helping Mother and Cecilia down. The footman urged the Whinny back into motion, taking the carriage to the stables as Mother, Cecilia, and I entered the house.

The foyer was dark, but that wasn’t unusual; the servants rarely chose to keep unnecessary rooms lit when Mother was gone. I agreed with them on principle, but now it bothered me somewhat. I snapped my fingers and let more of my energy flow out into a soft light that dimly lit the room. In the darkness, all I could easily see was color, shape, and shadow. An insectoid shape in the corner, as deep brown as the rest of the room, caused me to look away; I didn’t need to be reminded of Siobhan right now.

Then light, in the form of fire, flowed out from the shadow and lit the lamps. I turned, biting back a curse. “What are you _doing_ here?”

“Did you think I could let something like that energy dump go without wanting to know more?” Siobhan’s voice turned dark as he came closer. “I’m glad you survived, but that was a remarkably stupid thing to do.”

I laughed and hugged the brown Ruki, drawing energy from his presence. “Thank you for being earth-tied; I wouldn’t have managed without you.”

“You would’ve spread it to the air instead.” Siobhan smiled. “Earth isn’t the only grounding element.”

“With lightning? Air wouldn’t work.”

Mother coughed delicately. “As nice as it is to have you visit, Siobhan, would you care to explain why you came?”

“Of course.” Siobhan released me and turned to Mother. “Your son used me to ground the magic thrown around here a few hours ago. I felt it and came here immediately. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, no.” Mother clasped her hands. “It is a pleasure to see you again. I don’t think you’ve changed one bit.”

“Neither have you, Lady Serefini.”

“Call me Maria; you’re close enough to family.” Mother’s expression was somewhere between pain and a polite smile as she spoke those words. “Now, shall we move into the sitting room?” She led us the short distance to said room with an elegant hurry. As we passed out of the foyer, Siobhan murmured a few liquid words and held out a hand for the fire to return to. His other hand stayed on my shoulder, radiating warmth, revitalizing me with the gentle energy of the earth.

In the sitting room, Mother took her armchair, patting a smaller version beside her for Cecilia to sit in. Siobhan glanced at me, and I shook my head slightly, sitting on the floor in front of another chair. Siobhan murmured, “You’re not helping your case, you know,” as he sat. I leaned against his chair, closing my eyes and letting him channel energy from the earth back into me.

Silence filled the room for a minute or so, until at last Mother sighed and said, “Siobhan, as we were returning to this estate, Giovanni said that he was considering living here again.”

“Really.” Siobhan didn’t sound as disbelieving as his speech implied. “Why is that?”

“Because he wants us to be a family again,” Cecilia said softly.

I opened my eyes to see her looking down at clutched hands, and smiled. “Cece’s right. It’s... this house feels more right, too. But I’d only come back to live here if...”

“I’ll come.” Siobhan laughed as I twisted to look up at him. “Really, do you think I would’ve come if I hadn’t been prepared to stay? Gianni, you’ve always talked of Brightvale as your home, no matter how much you love the Woods, and I’ve been waiting for you to speak up about it.”

“I didn’t want to leave you, and I didn’t think you’d come.” I shrugged. “You’ve always lived in the Woods.”

“Gypsies move around. I’ve been most places east of the mountains.” He smiled wistfully. “And a few places west.” The Ruki shook his brown head. “The kingdoms were always one of the more beautiful places we visited.”

“So you’ll stay?” Cecilia’s bright voice was stained with hope and suppressed elation.

“Yes,” Siobhan said, a smile brightening his dark face. “We will.”

Cecilia laughed and came over to hug us, then settled down at my side like a child. “I’m glad,” she said.

“So am I.” I smiled at her, and then looked at Mother. “And you?”

“I’ll have my son back,” she said gently, her soft blue eyes shining against her golden fur. “I’m happy for that, Gianni. I truly am.”

In that moment, with Cecilia beside me, Siobhan behind me, and Mother giving her blessing to us all, the mansion was my home again, and I settled into its warm wood and gentle golden light with joy. I was home, with my family, and no more would a nobleman’s illusions of grandeur threaten my family’s wellbeing. The peace of that knowledge, more than anything else, gladdened my heart and I looked forward to the next day’s dawn more than I had since I left home fifteen years ago.

“Thank you,” I said to Mother, meaning every word. “I think I’m home to stay.”

Her smile was the most beautiful thing in the entire world, and I rose to accept Mother’s embrace. When she pulled back, she kept her hands on my arms. “Let’s sleep now,” she said. “If this is a dream, I never want to wake from it.”

“It’s not, Mother.” I brushed a tear from her face. “Neither is it illusion. This is real, and we’ll all still be here come the dawn’s light.”

Behind me, I heard Siobhan give Cecilia a hand to help her stand. Then the Ruki’s solid hand rested upon my shoulder, and he said, in his gravelly voice, “In the morning light this won’t seem so much like mist; it’ll be metal, as solid and shining and sure as silver or steel.”

Mother smiled again, still shaking her head in disbelief, and led us up the stairs to sleep and dream of the joyous days to come.


End file.
